When the Bough Breaks
by CannibalHat
Summary: AU/AR Alfred finds himself washed up on a beach with amnesia when he meets notorious Pirate Lord, Arthur Kirkland. All Alfred remembers is his name, having no idea what the 'F' is supposed to stand for, he is almost nineteen years old, and he is looking for something very important to him but he can't remember what he wasn't supposed to forget.


"Talking"

_'Thinking'_

1.

The pressure on Alfred's back and the heat on his face told him that he was laying face up on a relatively flat surface out in the sun. Alfred opened his eyes and shielded them with his hand after the first attempt left his corneas burning, then sat up on his elbows feeling very disoriented and sore. And also very hot as he must have been out here baking for some time. Sitting up all the way, Alfred dragged his legs under him to slouch over in the pretzel-style and realized he'd been lying on some hot, white sand. Looking around himself, he found he was alone on a ribbon of beach. His mouth felt dry and gummy, smacking his lips he reached down towards his waist to pull up his canteen out of habit, only to fall through and touch nothing. Still sleep-groggy, Alfred only blearily come to realize that he lost his canteen somewhere.

Needless to say, he was severely disappointed and still very thirsty.

A little frustrated, Alfred got up and turned around in complete circles to get a sense of things. '_Where the hell am I?'_ He brushed sand off his person wherever he could, but found it everywhere no matter how hard he brushed and dusted.

Tall palm trees swayed in a welcome cooling breeze as he stood in their shadow, the sun at this time of day was hidden behind their great hands for leaves so pinpricks peeked through as he moved along in the shade. Brown, fallen plant debris was scattered on the sand as he walked to sit at the base of a cluster of babes. Then he noticed something he ought to have noticed in first place, there were wooden planks on the sand around the immediate area on the beach. They weren't very big or long but they seemed to have been broken, a few odds and ends were everywhere and splintered wood still bobbed in the water where they were caught between some big rocks on the shore. He saw a paddle snapped in half sticking out of the sand, and judging by the side of the boat still intact dipped in a sand dune on the beach strip, he concluded it was a small rowing boat. More than likely he was the one who used it last.

Giving a humorless chuckle Alfred leaned back to rest against the rough bark of the palm tree, his sweat cooling against his skin, _'Shipwrecked then? I wonder if he's alright…'_ Alfred's brow creased at the thought,_ '..whoever I was thinking about..'_ Alfred frowned in confusion. _'Come to think of it, I can't remember if there even **was** anyone with me. Where was I coming from?' _He looked around again, a strange worry for someone or something he doesn't remember he needed to worry about worming its way through his breast. It felt like he was with someone in the boat previously. Wasn't he?

A sliver of panicked anxiety wormed it's way around his heart and Alfred quickly got up to check if, maybe, that someone else had washed up on shore too and he found his second mind in a burst of new energy borne of adrenaline. Why does the anticipation still linger in his chest? It was almost as if he was hoping for someone familiar to be out here yet also knowing.. A heavy feeling settled on him at the thought of being absolutely alone.

He ran in circles around the beach, looking everywhere, even wading around in the shallow water to search behind rock formations. He called out almost desperately for someone to answer but didn't even receive his own echo in reply.

Adrenaline wearing off, Al slowed to a sluggish stop in the sand. He was wet all the way up to his hair but that wasn't what made him suddenly feel cold. He was standing in sodden worn-down clothing in the scorching sun, in nothing but a tunic and trousers, and it was the crushed hopes he dared raise that chilled him. The wind whipped by his ears and the waves fanned across the shore and picked at the wooden debris of the ruined boat. The plants waved in the breeze and some native birds sang further inland.

Alfred stood there quietly for a good long while.

(linebreak)

Gathering what he could salvage from the wreck, Alfred started walking down the beach without really any expectation at finding much. He stuffed all that he reclaimed into a ragged little bag, a sack with a long strip at the lip and a button opposite so it could fold over to make a strap. He had it slung it over his shoulder and lazily made his way to nowhere under a hot sun.

He should probably be trying to gather provisions, seeing that he had none and was stripped of most everything else when he washed up here; didn't even have shoes anymore. Food, fire, a shelter.. definitely needed drinking water. Walking so long, he found that this place was, indeed, an island. There weren't any other land masses within sight either, he climbed to the highest vantage point he could (which was a dry plateau of hard packed dirt and rock that stretched up higher than the palm trees) and saw ocean in all directions. Miles and miles of water that stretched on forever until the sky touched the horizon. '_Stranded, huh._' And with no way of knowing if he'd ever be rescued or even where he might be in the world.

If he weren't so exhausted, Alfred thought he'd be freaking out about now. As it was he had his head stuck under a small freshwater waterfall stream burbling out from the path it cut deeply in the rock he stood before. After gulping down mouthfuls until he couldn't breathe, he swished it around his mouth and had stuck his head under it to cool off and to try and shake his lightheadedness. His clothes were already mostly dry by now, they were still moist with sea water and it was only his sweat that kept his front and back damp.

He'd sat on a boulder and looked into the small pond of fresh water in a strange daze. Maybe it was heatstroke? His stomach rumbled dejectedly and he thought, '_ah'_. Maybe it was hunger eating a hole through his stomach.

Just as he started to feel melancholy Alfred tensed and snapped to attention, looking off towards shore as though to see through everything that stood in-between and listened intently.

'_Was that a..?_' Alfred moved away from the water and made to move back towards the beach, '_I couldn't have been here long. There's no way.. I don't have **that** kind of luck.._' He almost laughed in a giddy sort of hysteria.

He made his loping way through the foliage cautiously as he came nearer, but he went in quickly (because he couldn't help himself, honestly). Standing behind a fist of palms and hidden in long grass, Alfred saw a beached ship and men moving quickly and purposefully about. He made to get a better look to see if they were military or merchants and if he could catch a ride somehow when he felt a blade at his throat. Feeling it press against his Adam's apple, the blood started rushing through his ears.

Alfred carefully turned his head, mindful of the sharp edge skirting a hair's breadth away, to look out the corner of his eye at the wielder. Clearly male, though he stood deeply in shadow, Alfred thought he saw a flash of silver for hair and an unsettling red for eyes. The image conjured up a fear for a different man in a different time and place that he was so close to remembering and yet.

"Let's go, then. Nice and easy, pretty boy." The blade curled right up under his jaw.

()


End file.
